


Shutdown

by Vimes



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:53:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28716069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vimes/pseuds/Vimes
Summary: Abed shuts down, goes nonverbal and the reader helps him recover.
Relationships: Abed Nadir/Reader, Abed Nadir/you
Comments: 7
Kudos: 37





	Shutdown

You turned heel and ran as soon as you heard Abed scream. There was nothing quite as painful, both sonically and emotionally, as that high pitched, drawn out shriek and you knew it never came until he’d been pushed well beyond his limits. It carried, too, before it trailed off - there was a good distance between your upcoming lecture and the library so by the time you threw open the door to the study room, you were panting.

Abed sat on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest and Britta crouched beside him, awkwardly patting his shoulder and waving a hand in front of his face.

When she saw you, she got to her feet to give you room. “I don’t know what happened, I found him like this.”

“Thank you, Britta.” You got to your knees in front of him and Abed stared right through you. It would be alright - you had a plan. “Abed, can you talk?”

Abed blinked. You drew a deep breath and looked him over. His grip was a little tighter, his posture was a little more hunched. You studied his hands - his nails were digging into his arms, he was hurting himself. As counterintuitive as it sounded and as heartbreaking as it was to see, you knew this was a good sign.

You kept your tone and face as neutral as possible so he wouldn’t have anything to interpret. “Can you make a sound?”

He screwed his eyes shut and after a pause, he managed a little hum.

“Alright, good. Last question, are we doing scenario A?”

This time the hum came quicker and stronger. Once meant yes, twice meant no. Silence meant he was beyond choosing. You turned to Britta.

“Britta, do you have Abed’s class schedule?”

“I think so.” She got out her backpack and started rifling. You could tell she was nervous, and like most nervous people, this meant she wanted to talk. “I should have a copy in my wallet, or I can get one from -“

“Can you find his professors and tell them what’s up?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

“Great, thank you. I’ll keep you updated.” You turned back to Abed. “Abed, I’m going to grab you.”

With a bit of effort, you managed to get him on his feet with his arm across your shoulders. He stood on his own but held on tight. “Good. Now we’re going to walk, just follow my lead.”

The sight of the two of you staggering awkwardly down the halls was enough to make practically everyone stop and stare. You knew from experience that glaring right back sometimes prompted people to get out of the way but usually didn’t remind them to mind their own business. Abed had told you he didn’t notice, especially not when he was this far gone, and that if he noticed, he didn’t care. That didn’t stop you hurting on his behalf.

It took some doing, but in less than five minutes you made it to the right door. Abed walked on his own now so he entered ahead of you and stood motionless in the middle of the room while you turned on the lights, shut and locked the door behind you and made sure everything was as you’d left it. Popularity with the dean might be a mixed bag, but it definitely had its perks and the use of this dilapidated, dank corner of the campus as an emergency hide-out was one of them.

You made sure to walk into Abed’s eye line before touching him again, then took him by the arm and led him to an armchair placed against the far wall. He sat and you sat beside him.

From under your own chair, you got out a box of emergency supplies and dug out a candy bar, thanking the stars that no rats or stoners had found this little stash yet. You peeled off the wrapper and handed it to Abed who held it in both hands and took a bite. Slowly, gradually, his breathing deepened and his limbs relaxed.

“What time is it?” His voice was steady but quiet.

“It’s twenty minutes past three.”

“I have a test.”

“That’s alright, you can take it over another day. Britta is filling everyone in”

Abed sighed. He’d finished the candy and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

“You want another one?”

He held his hands out, but wide apart, and you placed the whole box in his lap so he could help himself.

It always baffled you when people insisted Abed was difficult to read - all you’d had to do to learn was watch, listen, use a very little imagination and then ask him to explain whatever wasn’t logically obvious. He fished out a Rubik’s cube and went to work of separating the colours as thoroughly as he could.

“Thank you,” he said and looked at you properly for the first time.

For now, as long as nothing caught him off guard and he was careful, the danger had passed. You smiled and squeezed his knee. “Always.”

“Aren’t you missing your classes?”

“Eh. I like to be a little unpredictable - keeps them on their toes.”

He smiled back. “People love a good mystery. Simple mysteries, anyway.”

“Who are you calling simple?”

Abed looked a little questioning, so you waggled your eyebrows to signal that you were kidding. His expression didn’t change. “You’re not simple. You figured me out and not even I got very far with that.”

“I don’t know about all that... it’s usually easier to understand other people’s problems than to understand your own.”

“I guess that’s true.” He seemed to be working through something, so you let him be until he spoke again. When he did, he sounded hesitant. “Will you get bored?”

“How do you mean?”

“Once you’ve figured me out.”

“Abed, you’re not a puzzle.”

“I don’t know. A lot of awareness campaigns would disagree with you.”

“No, I meant you’re not a puzzle because that implies a challenge.”

Now he stared at you and his slightly offended expression made you laugh. It might suck to always be called special, but it did still mean you were special.

“Being with you is not hard work. At least it isn’t hard work for me.” But Abed didn’t look reassured, so you went on. “Does it feel like I’m trying to solve you?”

“I’m not sure. You’re methodical. Maybe I just worry about it, so I look for signs...”

You reached out and put an arm around him. Abed leant his head on your shoulder.

“I don’t want to make you feel like that because it’s not true. I love all of you. If I just wanted to learn how to help someone through a shutdown, there’s easier ways to do that than dating you.”

“Cool.” He held up his hand and you laced your fingers between his.

“Should I do anything differently?”

“No... I just needed to be sure.”

“What happened to stress you out, anyway?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. It wasn’t interesting.”

You snorted. “Alright then.”

He leaned out, a small smile playing on his lips. “So, if you're not dating me for my mind, it must be because I’m physically irresistible.”

“Of course it is.”

“Cool.”

“Every time you talk about Inspector Spacetime I tune out your voice and imagine climbing you like a palm tree.”

“What?”

“I meant -“ you began, but then Abed waggled his eyebrows and you laughed. “Oh, I see. Very nice.”

“My mind was somewhere else.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

He pulled at you, gently, and you slipped out of your seat to sit on his lap. Abed put his arms around you and kissed you and the kiss still tasted of sugar. When he broke it, you felt short of breath for the second time that day.

You leaned your forehead against his to steady yourself and forced yourself to ask, “are you ready to get back out there?”

“Technically, yes. If I lie, will you stay here with me?”

“Of course.”

“Then I’m not ready.”

“Good. I was hoping you’d say that.”


End file.
